


Penance

by VelvetKey



Series: The Silent Protectors [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-01
Updated: 2002-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetKey/pseuds/VelvetKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <i>The Haven.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

"... you are hereby prohibited from returning to your protectorship without the accompaniment of another, and from using the guise of a woman. Such behavior cannot be tolerated..."

I stand, head bowed, hands folded. It pains me to submit to this, but the alternative is much worse. My dedication stands firm, and though I am not subversive, if I could avoid this humiliation, I would.

I feel the eyes of the other protectors as they sit beyond the pool of light in which I stand. There is little hostility in their gazes, mostly pity. Many of them understand my temptation, for they have felt it as well. But they likely have not succumbed as I have, and I am alternately angry and disappointed in myself.

Dimly I realize that the gathering has been dismissed, and the lights slowly rise. There is a muted shuffling as the others of my trade depart the circular, nondescript room. My downcast eyes slide to the right as people flow around me. I cannot look at their faces, my inward shame is still too great to even forgive myself.

A hand gravely touches my shoulder, and I turn to see Grey Lady. Her eyes speak volumes of understanding, though she says not a word. She is much the same as I, I realize. She knows of the longing and the pain.

More than any words could ever say, Grey Lady's silence is enough, more comforting than I could have imagined. I nod to her, for I also have no words I could say without my voice betraying me.

I see also Myfanwy and Keziah. They are newcomers to this place and I know little of them, but their gazes are also sympathetic, and I manage to incline my head to them without losing control of my emotions.

When at last I am alone and the door has closed behind the last of the council, I sink to the hard floor in the midst of the room. Tears do not come, nor do words with which to express the growing rage inside me. So instead I am silent, staring but seeing nothing. To describe the thoughts in my mind is to try to bridle the fury of Caradhras, or to give words to the untamed beauty of a sunrise over the peaceful Shire. There is nothing sufficient in the realm of mortal men.

A soft footfall shatters my frame of mind, and I jerk around with a swift intake of breath. There is a girl standing there, pale under the lights. Her hands are hidden in the pockets of her jeans, until she removes one to brush a strand of short brown hair away.

"I will go with you," she states simply. I am not sure I hear her correctly.

"You'll what?" My voice sounds strained, hoarse.

"I will go back with you, since you can't do it alone."

I bark a short laugh. "Why would you choose to, when I am so disgraced?"

"You have no cause to be angry with yourself. We are all human, and I think you showed great strength." Her eyes probe mine, and I look away, shame burning on my face. Her next words are so quiet that I nearly fail to hear them. "I need you to go with me."

"Why? Were you placed under the same sentence as me?"

"No. I am afraid of what I might do, were I to go alone. If someone as you who respects them can't resist, what shall I who loves one with all passion do?"

I stare at her for a long time. She appears familiar, but I cannot place her. She has admitted something that could be a weakness, yet I see it as strength.

"I see him as me, if ever I entered into Middle-Earth as a child and grew up there," the girl continues. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, and then slowly recites:

_People create books, but do books create people?_  
 _We see ourselves in our favorite characters_  
 _With great destinies to fulfill_  
 _And dangerous paths to tread_  
 _There are such beautiful and terrible things to discover_  
 _And we wish to see them all_  
 _But then it's over._

_Do we still carry with us_  
 _The lessons they learned and we learned with them?_  
 _I suppose Mr. Tolkien expected no less_  
 _And after he's shown us the world from different views_  
 _Each one new to us, each one true_  
 _I ask, which Hobbit, Elf, Dwarf, or Man_  
 _Is a reflection of you?_

When she finishes, I am struck speechless. It is a facet of belief and existence that I have never encountered before. The stunning simpleness and truth strikes a chord within me, and I finally rise to my feet. "What is your name?"

"Kel." She does not hesitate to supply it, as if she already knew of my acceptance to her presence. I extend my hand, and we shake solemnly.

Always before, much previous preparation and care have gone into my visitations. Yet this time I shall not be in control. It is Kel who must act as hostess, if what she will do can truly be termed as such. Therefore to her all my attentions turn as I devise our plot. Kel does not immediately agree to my own choice of disguise, as I cannot be seen as a woman of any age. But I cannot with any satisfaction portray the appearance of a man, and this way my cursed voice will be unknown.

And so on a misty gray morning shortly after the Fellowship has set off from the famed realm of Lothlorien, Kel and I come.

The site is on the shore of the river Anduin, and on the outside it is little more than a haphazard pile of sticks, much resembling a man-sized beaver's dam. Yet the inside is as much a surprise to us as it will be to them.

Assortments of objects are tacked on the smooth earth-baked walls. Pots and pans of various sizes, strips of dried and seasoned meat, collections of herbs, a few pictures here and there...it gives the hut a homey, cluttered feel that is not unwelcome. Thick coarse material serves as carpeting, and the hand-fashioned furniture is worn enough to seem inviting to the tired soul. A single small fireplace crackles fitfully at the far end of our small edifice, and I stretch luxuriously before curling up in a slightly bowl-shaped stone set into the hearth.

"What do I do?" Kel has taken on the form of a slightly hunched over old woman, replete with wispy white hair and skin like wrinkled parchment. Yet there is a spark in her ageless eyes that belies her excitement and at the same time, her trepidation. She is unsure of what, rather who, is coming.

I reply in the manner of Galadriel, in my companion's mind. {There is nothing to be done, Kel. The first move is mine alone, and then they shall be all yours. Light the candles in the window, and then wait for my return. I'll be back shortly.}

Silently I slink across the hut, and out a small crevice where the wall has broken away and there is a hole between the limbs that cover our home. My ears perk up and swivel at the minute noises on the faint morning breeze. The slight damp in the air causes my black fur to fluff, keeping me warm. My solution to my rightful sentence has been in the form of a cat, though I wonder perhaps how many more rules I've broken by assuming this form.

Blue-gray waves lap quietly at the bank of the river where I sit serenely surveying the morning. The unmarred world only seems to be more beautiful now that I am a creature of it. The air is free and clean, its cold crispness making it feel alive as it brushes around me. The native flowers and plants are green and lush where there is nothing, no outside force to mar them. They are so alive that they seem to shiver excitedly as they greet the first weak rays of the sun. Inwardly I reflect and wonder if the animals that trod the earth have always possessed a deeper sense for the nature around them.

My paws find their way down a narrow strip of smoothed stones and other debris that stretches out into the river. Its blocking of the current has created a calm pool. Fish flit and dart in it, and I watch them curiously, whiskers twitching. Suddenly as if of its own accord, my paw darts out, but I miss my target. The second time I am more prepared and I actually manage to snare one of the fish. It flops wildly on the shore, and I sit back, startled, unsure of what I should do.

Unfortunately, my backwards move causes the shore to drop out from under me, and I feel as if I am sitting on air, a moment before cold wetness engulfs me. I open my eyes to see nothing but blurry gray water all around me, and I panic as I realize that I do not know which way is up. Luckily, my natural buoyancy saves me, and I shake water from my eyes as I surface, looking around desperately for some way to swim to the bank of the river.

The swift current carries me away from my home, but I cry out for Kel anyway, meowing aloud in the chances that someone will hear me. At my mental summons my companion comes running, but there is little she can do for me on the bank. I realize that I must save myself, and I know that it is likely I will not have the strength to do so. Yet I begin to paddle, with all my might. An unseen rock strikes me in the ribs, but I do not give in. Kel and her house are quickly passing from my sight, and the sound of loudly rushing water only serves to unnerve me more. Wouldn't it be fitting for there to be a waterfall nearby?

A sudden wave of water washes over my head, and I am forced under again. My strength is rapidly depleting, but I struggle to reach the surface again. Yet this time the current of the water tries to hold me in its grasp, tearing at my legs and tail, gripping me frighteningly.

Something wraps around my tail, and the water seems to flow faster around me, and then there is air again. I pant gratefully as someone's large hands cup around my small body, warm and strong. Blearily I look up to see my savior, and the serious face of Boromir comes into view. I have no energy left to spend, and I am limp in his hands as he gives me to Pippin. The young hobbit wraps me in a corner of his cloak, as near as I can tell. I am too exhausted to try and make sense of anything. Vaguely Boromir's voice instructs Pippin to dry me as much as possible, but by then I am asleep.

I am jarred awake by a transfer to somebody else's hands. I see Aragorn this time, his gray eyes thoughtful as he turns and strides towards Kel, who is all but wringing her hands in worry. {Character, Kel. Remember your character,} I urge her quietly.

"Thank you, stranger. I am forever indebted to you. I could not bear to lose my cat," Kel says, her weathered hands reaching to cradle me close. "Please, please let me thank you all. Come inside and rest for a moment."

Aragorn looks about to refuse, but he glances over his shoulder at the four hobbits, two of which are nodding enthusiastically. Boromir also seems to be rubbing the blisters on his hands from rowing at the most opportune moment. "If you are sure we will be no trouble, Mistress...?"

Kel hesitates for a moment, then blurts, "Gwyn. Just Gwyn, if you please. And yes, please make yourselves at home. I owe it to you."

Aragorn steps back and watches as Merry and Pippin, followed by Sam and then Frodo, gingerly make their way into the haphazard-looking cottage. In no time at all they are situated in front of the fireplace, munching on apples they had in their pockets.

Kel's eyes follow Frodo, and I can sense the longing within her. {Kel, focus. Do not make Strider suspicious by keeping your attention on him.} My companion shakes herself in time to welcome Gimli, who merely nods to her. Then Legolas, whom my own eyes track before I mentally slap myself, humiliation flooding back to me. This time, Gandalf is not here to save me if I should fall. We must both be careful.

"Greetings, Master Dwarf and Master Elf. My small abode is humbled by your presence." Kel takes the opportunity to pinch the tip of my tail in a silent reprimand, and I shoot her a feline glare.

"We thank you for your hospitality, Mistress Gwyn," Legolas replies, bowing slightly to her before entering. Then Boromir and Aragorn follow, and lastly Kel closes the door behind her. The draft from it causes me to sneeze, and then to shake. In my attention to the Fellowship I have neglected myself. Without the warmth of Pippin's cloak I find that I am freezing cold, and the wetness of my fur does nothing to help.

Every spare surface within the small lodge has been turned into a seat at Kel's insistence as she pushes past her guests to set some water to boil on the hearth. Still shivering, I leap from her grasp to try and find warmth near the fire. Yet I am forced to abandon my normal spot when my companion builds up the blaze, and the heat threatens to singe my fur.

I circle around, until at last Sam welcomes me into his lap. I am only too content to curl up and close my eyes. Voices ebb and flow around me, and I enjoy merely listening to the various sounds of the Fellowship.

I revel in the soft syllables of Aragorn's tone, and the quiet strength in Frodo's. Boromir's tenor and Gimli's good-natured growling seem almost harmonious, and I swivel my ears, trying to hear everyone at once. Kel's gentle comments fit right in with Legolas's soft laughter. Sam's few and far between statements are timid as he strokes my waterlogged fur. Merry and Pippin's chortles and jokes lift my spirits, until I feel my heart is so full of joy that it must burst.

Yet though here they are, resting for but a few hours on their perilous quest, when all their worries should slip away as they have before, they yet still remain. I sense it, perhaps as only an animal can. It is in Aragorn's guarded words, and Frodo's lack of open conversation. I despair for them, for I know the end grows nearer. The time when the Fellowship that was forged beneath the eaves of Rivendell will crack and break asunder. I do not wish it so, yet it is not my place to determine what shall be.

Suddenly I want to cry, but cats do not cry. I want to stop this, I want everyone to have a happy ending. I want all the hobbits to go back to the Shire and live to be eleventy-one, to raise families and not dream of going out of their homes. I want them to eat mushrooms and teach their children about the goodness of Middle-Earth, not about war and destruction.

I want Gimli to return to Moria to find Balin waiting with open arms, never having heard of goblins or orcs. I want him to drink his ale and smoke his pipe, perhaps find a nice dwarf lass to marry. Or maybe to travel to the ends of Middle-Earth with Legolas, forging a never-ending friendship that many will marvel at for ages to come. Why must these things happen to those who deserve them not?

Aragorn...it is difficult to say what I desire for him. I wish he and Arwen to always be happy together, and for him to be wherever he wishes to. I know not his heart, whether he would prefer the winding road to unknown wilds under his feet, rather than a crown on his brow. Yet I want to take all this hardship, all these burdens away from him, for he is now the leader of them, and it is a heavy load to carry.

I want Boromir to live. Is it such a hard request? He is nobility, honor, loyalty, and gentleman all in one. My heart is like a stone that drops to the bottom of the deepest ocean of sorrow. He can overcome himself if he but tried. He nearly succeeded, yet he died before he could ever prove it to anyone. And for it he is thought of as evil, when he is merely a sinner coming back to the light. Have we all not made mistakes we wished we could take back in an instant? Yet we are given the chance to live and correct our actions, while Boromir...Boromir will be but a misunderstood memory.

I open my eyes and jump from Sam's lap. I know not if I will be able to return to this realm, and I care not what the penalty for my actions will be. Boromir's long legs loom in front of me, and I pause a moment before leaping nimbly upon his knee and advancing forward, reaching up and stretching with my front paws braced against his chest. His brown eyes regard me with curiosity as I gaze back with my own green ones. "Hello, small one," he says quietly.

Tearing my eyes away I turn in a single circle before settling down. Gently the man of Gondor strokes my fur, and I begin to purr softly, then louder by degrees. It is the only comfort I can offer as I am, and I will give it wholeheartedly. He will leave this world feeling alone and devoid of anything. I do not expect he will remember me when he goes, but perhaps he will recall the assurance of love as his world fades and he goes to join the eternal song.

Kel watches me, something like a disapproving frown on her aged features. I choose to ignore her, my own internal pain too great for me to attempt to explain.

As the time draws close and the Fellowship makes ready to continue on their course, I rise from my position on Boromir's lap, arching my back into his hands one last time. Then I playfully nip at one of his fingers before bounding to the floor. I look back to see his gaze thoughtfully on me, but there is one thing I must do.

Legolas regards me with surprise as I thread between his legs, rubbing against his ankles. I could not wish much more for him, only that he and Gimli would have met under better circumstances to travel together. And that he was not so desired by those of my world as merely some sort of object for their amusement. As he reaches down to pat my head, I sit and whisper so that only Kel can hear, {Namaarie, Legolas.}

One by one the trio of elven boats push off from the rocky shore, as Kel stands there, waving goodbye. I scamper out onto the small strip of debris where I fell from, watching the Fellowship until they disappear around a far bend.

Kel and I regard one another. {You did well,} I tell her, pausing to try and put my black coat back in some semblance of order.

She looks back out over the river, a faraway look in her eyes. "I have never even dreamt of anything such as that. It was incredible. They are incredible. I have lived their life for one moment, my own moment." She turns to me, and her face is seems young again, shining with joy. "This is why I am a protector. I see now why you are so devoted to them. There is such pureness and wonder in doing this, in seeing them as they really are."

{Yes,} I sigh. {We are of the few. The very few. Treasure such times as these, Kel, for they will seldom come again.}

Together we gaze out over the grey-blue waters of the Anduin, our thoughts each our own. I think of Boromir, and how this was likely the last time I shall see him. And I dwell on each of the others, and their paths that lie ahead. I pray that they find hope and keep it close to them in the dark hours to come.

"Coming?" Kel asks as she begins to walk away. I spare one final instant to look down the river again, though I know I shall see them not, before bounding to her side.

{Let us go, for our road is not nearly so long. But whither then? I cannot say.}

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~  
Translation:  
 _Farewell, Legolas._

Header: _A gift to Kel, as I promised._

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

The poem "Reflection of You" has been reproduced here with permission from Melilot Millstone.

**Author's Note:**

> Original header: _~ Ona a' Kel, vee' amin veste.~_
> 
> Original Fanfiction.net stats:
> 
> Complete - Lord of the Rings - Fiction Rated: K - English - General - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3764 - Reviews: 16 - Updated: 12-1-02 - Published: 12-1-02


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